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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24099124">Professor Layton Character Studies</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/macybon23/pseuds/macybon23'>macybon23</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Layton Brothers: Mystery Room, Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Adopted Children, Character Study, Father-Daughter Relationship, Father-Son Relationship, Friendship, Gen, Headcanon, Multi, Platonic Relationships, Teacher-Student Relationship, lots of relationships</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 23:36:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,729</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24099124</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/macybon23/pseuds/macybon23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Professor Layton character interaction one-shots. I basically made a list of all the characters I was well-acquainted with and tried to figure out how they would interact and react to each other. Random order, a mix of relationship styles, mostly familial or friendly/platonic, so don't get too excited about romance here.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Claire/Hershel Layton, Desmond Sycamore &amp; Constable Barton, Ernest Greeves &amp; Katrielle Layton, Flora Reinhold &amp; Desmond Sycamore</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Desmond and Barton</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He came in like a hurricane to Commissioner Barton’s office, slamming the door behind him. A panicked secretary mouthed an apology from the window outside, while Barton himself merely sighed.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Desmond, I thought I told you-“</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“When are you going to start looking for my brother? Five years from now? Ten? Tell me when, Barton, and I’ll stop doing this.” The curly haired man glared down at the Commissioner, red eyes blazing embers.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s been far too long without a lead-“</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So that’s it? You’re giving up?” He slammed his fists on the desk. “Unbelievable.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, what would you have me do, Desmond? Send all of my men on a wild goose chase with no direction, no clues, and no resources to spare? I’m booked tight as is!” The other man paced back and forth like an angry lion, debating his next move.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Barton shook his head and glanced down at his paperwork. It was a pile of files on the incoming applicants for the inspector position that was opening up. Several young officers had caught his eye, but it was the name of this particular file that he noticed only now.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It can’t be,” he whispered. Desmond’s eyes were on him in an instant.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What did you say?” he barked. “Speak up, Barton!”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The Commissioner merely pointed down to the paper on his desk, and the other man joined him at his side.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Alfendi? What’s his name doing here?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“He’s up for the inspector job.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Desmond gave him a severe look. “And you’re going to give it to him, right?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, he’s one of several possible-“</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Consider it a consolation prize to Hershel’s family and myself. Give Al the position you and I both know he deserves. In return, I promise we’ll stop meeting like this. Is that understood?” The Commissioner glanced back down at the young man’s file. Despite having some negative marks on temperment, he was an otherwise outstanding member of the force, not to mention a Layton. He couldn’t be all that bad if he was Hershel’s son. What harm could come of it?</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He didn’t know just how much of a rollercoaster he had signed himself up for, but Desmond walked out of his office that day and never returned, so he had to admit some good had come of it. He would be happy if he never had to face an angry Desmond Sycamore ever again, as long as he lived.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Timelost Claire - Hershcicle</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>So the idea for this one came from the anime series and Unwound Future. I loved the contrast between how they both "travelled" to the future, both technically frozen but in different ways.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Claire felt weightless, yet her heart felt too heavy. In moments she would be delivered back to the moment of her death. Hershel would live on without her again, though this time would be the most final. But she could rest in peace knowing he had a beloved assistant Luke, a ward Flora, and the support of a whole community. He was loved by so many, she knew he would be alright. She closed her eyes, ready to embrace whatever horrific event would end her.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Her feet touched solid ground, and she opened her eyes. The space was dark, damp, and nothing like her laboratory. Where was Dimitri in this time? Where was Bill? The ground beneath her was a smooth stone surface. She turned around, toward a buzzing noise, and gasped.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hershel?” There he was, seemingly asleep inside a vertical blue glass coffin. He was older than when she had seen him last, which convinced her this wasn’t her time either. This was further in the future than she had previously been. Across the room in an identical contraption was his assistant Luke. No longer a boy, for sure. “Oh, no Luke. Not you too.” So this was the future? No, no it couldn’t be. How did her boys end up here... wherever here was?</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She placed her palm against the glass, wishing that she could tell if Hershel was okay. A slip of paper poked out from a pocket inside his coat. She pressed her face close to the glass, trying to make out what was on it.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“He’s... a father?” The paper was a photo, of Hershel holding a small child. A girl, but it wasn’t Flora. The way he was smiling so proudly of her, it warmed her heart and broke it all the same. Why was he here, and not with her? What happened to the girl, and where was she now?</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Sounds came from outside the chamber, and she hid behind an empty coffin. The doors slid open, revealing a crowd of people, many of them police with guns raised. She pressed further back into the shadows. Someone stepped close to Hershel’s glowing tube, and gasped.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Papa?” Claire’s breath hitched in her throat. Was this the girl? She peeked around her hiding place and spotted a young woman staring at Hershel with teary eyes. She was so much older than in the picture, but it was definitely her. How many years had he been down here?</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Claire felt herself disappearing again, and let herself this time without a fight. Hershel would be okay, even this far into the future. He would have adventures, run into danger headfirst, and even start a family of his own. The path that led him to being locked away for years was a puzzle, but seeing him found by his daughter made her confident things would work out in the end for both of them.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There was only a flash of light and she was gone.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Miss Layton, did you see something?” said Ernest. She stood like a statue in front of her father, unaware of anything that had transpired. He decided he was imagining things.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Ghost Claire and Hershel</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Okay I have a soft spot for these two so naturally my ideas for them I wrote first. This is pretty much an AU to the one before this, not intended to be continuous with it. Another path, if you will.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ghost Claire - Hershel</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Claire’s ears rang with the sound of an explosion that she barely felt before feeling nothing at all. All sense of time disappeared. When she opened her eyes, she was surprised to see that she was back in the time she had just left only moments before. Hershel was walking back towards his flat alone. She assumed the others had let him be in his grief.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She floated over to his side, slipping her ghostly hand into his, though she knew he couldn’t feel it. His head hung low, hiding the tears he cried. The hat she had gifted him so long ago dangled in his other hand. The weight of it was too much for him to bear, and she didn’t blame him for not wearing it. Instead she pitied him. While she had the luxury of leaving and not staying to see the full aftermath, he was left to pick up pieces. The most she could give was her unconditional love that he would never feel. Her hand passing through his like air was proof of it.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They continued like that, hand in invisible hand, down the block and turned left onto his street. Only a single shadow stretched and shrunk as they passed by a streetlamp. She took a moment near the light to take a look at Hershel’s face. It was the same one she had known for years, though aged by a decade. He used to joke that she had an edge on him by only a month, but only because she was born early. Now he had ten years on her. Fine wrinkle lines were starting to etch their way around his eyes and mouth, indicative of his frequent smiling and laughing. A good sign, for sure, that in a life filled with pain and loss, he was still able to manage a smile most days. A warmth spread through her body and she breathed a sigh of relief. Hershel would be okay, she knew that in her heart now, and more importantly she believed it too. If he could smile before today, he would smile yet again eventually. In time, he would return to being her beloved, puzzle-loving gentleman, with or without his characteristic top hat.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He arrived at his flat and fumbled in his pocket for his keys. She watched him raise his hand to grasp the doorknob, and he froze.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Thank you, Claire,” he said in a rough, broken voice, “for staying with me as long as you have.” She jumped in shock at his acknowledgment of her, though it shouldn’t have been possible. He raised his head to stare at the door in front of him. “I wish we could have had the life we imagined for ourselves. It would have been a beautiful one, I’m certain. But our time has passed, I see that now, and I need to find a way to live without you yet again.” Claire leaned closer to him, laying a phantom hand on his shoulder. A tear slid down her cheek. “I will be okay, my love. I have answers now. I can finally sleep knowing that your death is no longer a mystery to be uncovered.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He placed his hand against the doorframe, tilting his head skyward. “I wish I could keep you here beside me forever, but I know you need to leave. You deserve to move on to whatever is beyond this life. I love you, Claire. I always will. Please don’t ever forget that.” With a sad smile, he entered into the darkened flat, leaving her on the porch.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Her head was spinning from his heartfelt speech. The man she had once known had lived so much life in so few years, and the wisdom he had acquired showed. These were not the words of a twenty something year old man who had just lost his girlfriend. They were the words of an older man who had been dealt many losses in his life, and who was learning how to navigate this world bearing that weight. She could see now that there was no longer a place for her here. The world had kept spinning, and things were different now. There was no question about the feelings she carried for him; those sorts of things never truly died. And she knew he felt just as strongly towards her. But like a broken pocketwatch, they had grown out of sync in their time apart. She remained frozen in time, a relic of a past that would never become the present. And he was ready to face the future once again without her.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I love you, Hershel” she whispered, letting herself be carried off with a flurry of snow in the midnight air.</span>
</p>
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